He does not share her pain, the burning loss of a child, a son, does not afflict him as it should- for he knows not of the death of Sier. Perhaps, even had he known, he would be failed to be moved at this loss. The weak do not deserve to live, the boy had rattled within his chest with each breath, been driven from the den as soon as it was Flare had lost her drive to defend him and the boy had been weaned of her milk- for Tobias will not tolerate weakness anymore then he will tolerate the presence of males other then himself within the company of his mate- sons or otherwise. He is driven by instinct alone to defend his offspring at birth, a primal, deep seated demand to protect what is his own and yet his desire to drive them from him grows only stronger with each passing week, strengthening as the instinct within Flare to nurse them weakness until he refuses to tolerate their presence any longer and his desire to protect wanes. Seir had ceased to exist within his mind the moment he had ceased to exist within his sight, Tobias far more tolerable of Riven though even she is snapped at when she draws to close, instinct and insanity driving such reactions- his paternal drive existing only so long as the children make mewling cries that prevents their deaths for as long as it is they display strength. The death of Sier means nothing to him as it does to Flare- for the instinct of Mother does not fade, not truly and it is this determination within her that sees him glide softly at her side like a darkened shadow upon the earth. He senses her drive, her anger, senses the chance to feed within her and follows this evening in her wake.

It is rare indeed that he permits her leadership, yet there partnership is unspoken, silent and yet understood without question. She leads tonight, for she is locked upon a scent and the need to feed stands above his need to dominate this night. He is silent within the dark, emerald eyes cast upon the darkness ahead as claws slice at the earth that parts willing from the obsidian Prince whom has hunted within the darkness for years so many, silent as death upon those blackened wings as he follows She of Red and White, a rumble of impatience rolling within the depths of his scared throat. This land reeks of wolf scent, thick and heady within the air as saliva pools readily between his jaws and his pace falters every so slightly as he turns, darkened head curved back within the gloom to lay reptilian eyes upon She of Grey and Scars. For she is his possession, as Flare is his possession, his belongings, for he alone and no other. He desires her flesh, her blood, hungers for her as no other and yet the mark of soul prevents it, forbids him, commands him with strength as strong as instinct itself that assures he both loathes and craves this creature all once. She is as he, yes, as he and as Flare and as such her presence is tolerated, desired, for she is invited to share the meal they will have this night- Tobias content to call to her to follow, the low call within his throat that of summons, demanding that she follow as paws carry him silently across the borders of Taviora.

Flare seeks to burn and to ravage, her aggression feeding his own as rings of smoke rise within the cold of the air from nostrils of the Dark Angel and the truest of Demons as he follows, head and tail lifted all the same, his dominance over the females present assured, a reaction entirely to the scent of other male that exists within this area as each muscle rolls and coils beneath that brilliant pelt of ebony as white teeth flash from beneath the fleshy curtain of his lip and another snarl coils restlessly within his throat. He hungers tonight, hungers for the hunt and for the flesh She of Red and White promises with each stride as they, these three, violate the land with each and every step in retribution for the one they have lost, even if Tobias knows it not, he needs no excuse to seek the blood that is his right to claim.